Chapter Thirty-Seven
Stephen
Iknew burnout. I’d suffered it on occasion and so did many of the people I worked with. I was glad that Elle wasn’t ill, but this was hardly better. In some ways it was worse, because despite being exhausted, she would keep going until the work was done, and suffer the consequences later.
I carried her bag with her laptop, notebooks, and folder as we walked through the busy streets. I would have grabbed a taxi, but I thought she could do with the fresh air – I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been at home working since I walked her to her door last Saturday night.
The streets were even more crowded than when I’d practically sprinted over to her apartment earlier.
There were flags hanging out of windows, people walking around with faces painted red, white and blue, and when we neared my place, streams of people were camping out on cordoned-off roads facing the East River and the Brooklyn Bridge.
Elle was uncharacteristically quiet in the face of all this excitement.
Ordinarily, I would have expected her to be insisting I took part in some food-related ritual or dragging me off to watch a re-enactment of the British being defeated, but there was a glazed look to her eyes, her mind whirring, a million miles away.
I hooked her arm through mine because I was concerned she was going to step out on the road without checking both ways.
‘Here, you can set yourself up at the table,’ I told her when we arrived at my apartment.
Putting her bag down, I fetched her some iced water as well.
Her place had been sweltering – it couldn’t be healthy.
I knew the rent in New York was high and living alone meant she had no help with the bills, so I was wondering if she couldn’t afford to fix her air conditioning unit and if I should offer to pay for it for her.
Just as a thank-you present for helping me out.
‘Give me a shout if you need anything else.’
She was standing in the middle of the lounge turning slowly, examining the space. Shaking her head, she focused her eyes back on me. ‘What? You don’t want to chat or something? Show me around?’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘I thought you needed to get on?’
‘I do…’ she said slowly. ‘Most people hear that and still talk to me though.’
‘I’m not most people.’ I winked at her.
‘No. You’re not.’ She gave me a small smile, her eyes warm and wondering, and I thought there was actually a possibility she meant it in a good way.
‘Go on then. That book won’t write itself.
’ I hesitated, wondering if I should bring up my concerns about her spilling the beans to Beth but…
no. Even if that had been her intention, she wasn’t going to be calling her anytime soon.
I could wait until she’d finished her work and her mind was clearer.
There was no guarantee she’d even remember the conversation if I spoke to her about it while she was in this state of intense single-mindedness.
While she settled herself at the table, pulling out her laptop and notebooks, I went into the kitchen to see if I had enough food in for us both or if I needed to pop out to the shops.
When I looked over, she was opening her laptop, chugging back the glass of water like she hadn’t realised how thirsty she was, her eyes already darting over the screen before her.
Relief flooded me that she’d agreed to come back here, where I could look after her.